Читать книгу Precious Surprises - Andrea Laurence - Страница 14
ОглавлениеEmma had rarely been as happy to get home as she was tonight. It seemed like no matter where she went or what she was doing, she would run into Jonah. Not like he was following her; he was just always there. She’d look up from the copier and see him down the hall talking to someone. He’d look at her and smile, the charming grin chipping away at her defenses before he turned back to his discussion. He was in the cafeteria, the coffee bar, passing her in the hallway...constantly.
And when Jonah wasn’t there, she found herself thinking about him anyway with a confusing mix of irritation and, if she was honest with herself, desire.
She didn’t want to admit it, but no red-blooded woman could resist Jonah’s charms. Emma had tried her best, but he was infuriatingly persistent and wearing her down. Their past didn’t help. Knowing what he could coax from her body, knowing what it felt like to cling to him, uninhibited and anonymous, made it that much worse. She couldn’t concentrate. The lines of the financial records blurred together, the math not adding up in her head no matter how many times she ran the figures. Her focus was not on the audit and it absolutely had to be—charming, sexy CEO be damned.
It was a relief to get home, the one place where she knew she was safe from Jonah Flynn. There was something about the feminine fabrics, soft throw pillows and cheerful colors that instantly made her entire body and mind relax. She’d decorated her Upper East Side apartment to look like a cozy retreat out of Country Living magazine, casual and inviting.
And yet, when she slipped out of her work clothes and into something more comfortable, she realized she wasn’t even safe from Jonah here. As she stood in the bathroom, clutching a worn T-shirt to pull over her head, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. There, just above the bare swell of her breast, was the blasted tattoo staring back at her.
She could still see him standing there, his mask obscuring everything but the same boyish grin, sharp jaw and dark blue eyes that seemed to rid her of all her good sense.
“Let’s get a tattoo,” he’d said.
Emma hadn’t realized they’d stopped on the sidewalk outside a tattoo parlor until he said that. It wasn’t the kind of place she typically took notice of. Or had any interest in going to.
“Two halves of one heart,” he’d lobbied and pressed the palm of his hand against the bare skin of her chest exposed by the low neckline of her top. His fingertips had gently curved around the edge of her breast, sending an unanticipated wave of pleasure through her. He had the uncanny ability to render her brain butter with the simplest touch.
“Right here.” He’d traced his skin at the juncture of his thumb and index finger, then across her skin, showing how their touch would make the heart whole. “If we’re meant to be together after tonight, I’ll find you. And this heart will be how we’ll recognize one another.”
Emma’s heart had swelled in her chest. His suggestion had been romantic and spur-of-the-moment and completely stupid. Not once in her life had she ever considered getting a tattoo, but that night had included a lot of firsts for her. With his hand gently caressing her and those ocean-blue eyes penetrating her soul, she couldn’t help but follow him into the shop.
Looking in the mirror now, she let her fingertip trace the heart the way his had done. Just imagining it was his hand instead of her own sent a shiver of longing through her body and her skin drew tight with gooseflesh. He’d been the last man to touch her, three long months ago. Her realization that she was pregnant with the stranger’s child had been a big enough disruption, making her physical needs easy to ignore, but now, knowing how close he was, it was as though her libido had flipped a switch.
Flustered by her wanton response to the ghost of a man she couldn’t have, she pulled the T-shirt over her head and marched back into the living room to make dinner.
It was Tuesday and if she kept daydreaming, the girls would arrive and she wouldn’t be ready.
Every Tuesday, Lucy, Harper and Violet gathered at Emma’s apartment for dinner and their favorite television series. They took turns cooking or buying takeout. Tonight, she’d promised Lucy she would make her favorite baked ziti and she hadn’t even boiled water yet.
In the kitchen, she busied herself by preheating the oven and gathering the ingredients for the family recipe. The ziti recipe was one of the few valuable things her older sister had taught her before she’d died.
Everything else she’d learned from her sister was more of a cautionary tale. She’d been sixteen when Cynthia died, barely dating herself, and yet the truth of her sister’s secret life had scared her parents enough to clamp down on Emma with an iron fist. She was hardly a problem child, but of course, Cynthia had always seemed perfect on the surface, too.
When she was old enough to be in charge of her own life, she’d thought about rebelling. Her hunt for a sorority had been a start, but instead, she went the other direction and chose Pi Beta Phi, the sorority of proper, well-off ladies out to do community service and build sisterhood. She’d seen how her sister’s scandal had hurt her parents and she didn’t want to be the one responsible for putting that look on their faces ever again. When she finally lost her virginity in college, it was to a well-groomed, polite premed major she’d been dating for nearly six months and had hoped to marry. She pretended to be the proper, sophisticated society darling her parents wanted, and after a while, it just became who she was.
She’d only really, truly let herself go that once. Emma let herself do shots of tequila with a stranger, licking salt from the musky skin of his throat and sucking a lime from his full, soft lips. From there, it was a slippery slope that led to the tattoo on her chest and a positive pregnancy test on the back of the toilet. One night had ruined a decade of good behavior. She had no idea how she was going to tell her parents.
Emma opened the box of pasta and dumped it into a pot of boiling water with an unsatisfying splash. It had been so easy to let herself get carried away that night. Too easy. There was a part of her that understood how her sister could get so wrapped up in a passionate and illicit relationship while she was engaged to someone else. The pleasure and the excitement were enthralling. The other part of her knew there was nothing worth derailing her whole life for.
There was nothing she could do about the choices she’d made in the past, but she certainly wasn’t going to make the same mistakes twice. Jonah Flynn was just the kind of man who could make her priorities get all out of whack. That made him dangerous. She would tell him about the baby once the audit was complete and she had done her job. He couldn’t know the truth about her identity or the baby before then, which made it imperative that she not let her guard down around him.
“We’re here!” Violet called out from the living room.
“I’m in the kitchen,” she replied, giving the pasta a stir and setting the timer. Since she’d added the girls to the approved guest list with the doorman, they tended to show up with little warning. “It’s nowhere near ready, sorry.”
The girls came around the corner with paper sacks and set them on the counter. “We’re not in a hurry,” Harper insisted. “Anyway, I brought a bottle of chardonnay and Violet picked up some cheese and crackers to keep us busy until dinner is ready. The wine is just for us, of course.”
Her best friends unpacked the items from the bags and set them on the counter. “Oh, and tiramisu,” Harper admitted, pulling the seductive dessert from the bag. “I had to.”
Emma groaned inwardly. “You said FlynnSoft has a gym, right? After all this I’m going to have to find it or I’ll gain fifty pounds with this kid. Now that I’ve gotten my appetite back, I’m hungry almost all the time.”
Harper smiled and nodded. “It’s on the ground floor near the rear entrance. You can’t miss it. There’s usually no one in there after six or so. You can have it all to yourself.”
“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Lucy said. She reached out and put her hand on Emma’s slightly rounded belly. “You look like you had a big lunch, not that you’re over three months pregnant. I think you can afford some indulgent carbs.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Emma quipped. “Now open those crackers. I’m starving.”
Violet opened the box of crackers while Lucy pulled wineglasses from the cabinet and the corkscrew from the drawer.
“So how is the FlynnSoft assignment going?” Lucy asked after Harper opened the bottle and poured her glass.
There was something about Lucy’s tone that worried Emma. She turned away from the marinara sauce she’d made and frozen to look at Harper and knew instantly that she’d spilled the secret about Jonah to the others. Emma swore under her breath and returned to mixing the cheeses and seasonings into the bowl.
“I’ll just presume you all are caught up on who Jonah is—thank you, Harper—and jump right into it. I have never met a man so persistent in my life. You should’ve seen his face when I told him I wouldn’t go to dinner with him. It was as though I was the first woman in his life to ever tell him no.”
“You probably were. I sure wouldn’t tell him no,” Violet spoke up.
“Well, someone needs to,” Emma responded. “He’s not a god. He can’t get his way all the time. That kind of arrogance makes me crazy.”
“I’ve never really thought of him as arrogant in the years I’ve known him,” Harper said, shrugging. “He’s confident, sure, very smart, of course. He knows what he wants and he goes after it. I find that attractive. But you’re determined not to like him, so he could save puppies from burning buildings and you would find a reason to hate him for it.”
Emma opened her mouth to argue, but knew there wasn’t much point. It was true. Mostly. She didn’t hate him. She couldn’t feel that way about the father of her child. But she had to find things wrong with him for her own protection. And if he was perfect, she’d make up lies in her head about all of Jonah’s evil doings and pretend they were true. “It’s better this way, trust me.”
“Why, Em?” Lucy settled into a chair at the kitchen table. “And don’t give me some story about your sister. We’ve all heard it before and know better than anyone that you’re not your sister. You certainly aren’t going to disappoint your parents with anything you do. You’re a better person.”
“There’s no sense in punishing yourself for sins you’ve never committed,” Lucy said.
Instead of answering right away, Emma drained the pasta and started mixing it with the sauce and cheese to put in the oven. What could she say to that? Was that really what she was doing? “I’m not punishing myself.”
“Yes, you are,” Harper insisted. “If not for your sister’s sins, then for whatever you did at that Mardi Gras party. I think the punishment far outweighs the crime.”
“That night was a mistake and I’ll never be able to put it behind me. Don’t you think getting impregnated out of wedlock by a stranger at a party will disappoint my parents?”
“They might not be thrilled, but grandbabies become a joy no matter what,” Violet said.
“I’ll remind you of that when you accidentally get pregnant by a man whose name you don’t know, Violet.”
“Listen, honey,” Harper interjected. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes where men are concerned. But not even one of my best moments were as sexy or romantic as what you told me about your night with him. You jumped in with both feet and scared yourself. Okay, I get it. But that doesn’t mean you have to stay out of the pool entirely. If you’re not ready for the deep end, at least put your feet in. Test the waters. Letting your hair down every once in a while won’t hurt anything. It might be good for you.”
Popping the casserole dish in the oven, Emma dusted her hands off on her yoga pants and eyed her friends’ wine with a touch of jealousy. If she didn’t put an end to this discussion, her friends would continue to badger her and they’d miss the show they’d come over to watch. “That is all well and good, but I’m not getting in a pool of any kind with Jonah Flynn. Not that he’d want to once I’m huge and pregnant anyway.”
“With his baby!” Lucy pointed out.
“It doesn’t matter. Does he look like the paternal type to you? I’ve told you my reasons for avoiding Jonah, but if nothing else I’ve said convinces you, know that it’s a major conflict of interest. I’m auditing FlynnSoft. If even so much as a whisper of a relationship pops up about Jonah and me, past or present, my credibility is shot. I’d probably lose my job and permanently damage the reputation I’ve worked so hard to build. No man, not even Jonah Flynn, is worth that. Not to me.”
“Well, they’re going to find out when the baby is born and everyone figures out what happened between the two of you. There’s no avoiding that. Your only option is to tell Tim you can’t do it. That would be the most forthright answer,” Violet said.
“Technically. But can’t isn’t in my vocabulary. I refuse to back down from this challenge, even if there’s a risk.”
Harper nodded in resignation and Lucy sighed. Emma hoped her friends would leave it alone, at least for the next two hours.
“Of course,” Harper said with a smirk, “if I was going to sully my reputation and ruin my career for a man, it’d be for him.”
* * *
Jonah was sitting at his desk Wednesday afternoon when his phone rang. He recognized the number as his financial advisor, Paul. Hopefully it was good news.
“Paul,” he said. “Tell me what I want to hear.”
There was a hesitation on the line that instantly told Jonah he was out of luck. “I’m sorry to tell you, Jonah, but it’s going to take me at least two more days to get everything handled. We could look into getting a short-term loan to get you the money, but the banks are really tight on those lately with the market the way it is. I doubt it would come through any faster. Any chance you could borrow it from...um...”
“From my mother?” Jonah asked.
“She does have more liquid assets than you do. That’s the only reason I would even suggest it.”
Jonah sighed and shook his head. He wanted to keep this situation as close to his vest as he could. “I don’t want Mother to know what Noah’s done. Ask someone for three million dollars and they’ll sure as hell want to know what it’s for. At least she’d ask me. She’d give it to Noah without blinking.”
“Then why didn’t he just borrow it from her in the first place?”
Jonah ran his fingers through his messy hair. “I have no idea. The less I know about what he’s up to the better. Listen, just move things as quickly as you can and I’ll do what I have to on this end.”
They wrapped up their conversation and Jonah hung up. He’d given Emma some space this morning, hoping maybe the money would come through and he wouldn’t need to continue pursuing a woman who was clearly disinterested in him. It was fun for him, a challenge he’d never had to face before, but he couldn’t spend all his time trying to woo the ice princess. He still had a company to run.
Apparently that task was back at the top of his to-do list for the day. He had some time on his calendar, so he slipped out from behind his desk and went in search of his elusive prey.
He spotted her on the twenty-fourth floor down the hall from her office. She was leaning over the copier, pressing buttons and eyeing the pages as they spat out. Jonah was tempted to come up behind her and whisper something in her ear, but nixed the idea. Somehow he thought that might earn him a slap or a knee to the groin.
Instead, he just watched her from a distance, admiring the curve of her calves highlighted by her knee-length skirt and four-inch heels. She held a pen gently to her full, soft lips, the lower one pouting just slightly and urging him to reach out and brush his mouth across hers.
The best thing about watching her from here was that her defenses were down. She was relaxed, a faraway daydreaming look in her eyes as the constant rhythm of the copier lulled her mind into thoughts about something other than accounting. He didn’t know what she was thinking about, but the corner of her mouth curved in a smile. It made her face light up in a way he hadn’t seen before. She was always so proper and guarded around him.
It was then that she turned to glance down the hallway and spotted him. Her green gaze ran over the length of his body for just a moment, her tongue darting quickly across her bottom lip. He thought he caught the slightest hint of something other than derision in her eyes, but before he could be certain, she snatched her papers from the copier, turned on her heels and started off in the other direction.
She was avoiding him again. No more avoiding.
Jonah marched up behind her. She was easy to catch with those high heels slowing her escape. He spied one of the janitorial closets just to her right and got a bad idea. Without so much as a hello, he wrapped one arm around her waist and opened the door, tugging her inside.
“What on Earth—” she shrieked in surprise, but quickly silenced when the door slammed shut and they were suddenly cloaked in the darkness of the small space.
The room was slightly musty, smelling of industrial cleaner and old cardboard, but the subtle scent of her lotion cut through it all and sent a spike of need down his spine. Memories of the night with his butterfly flooded his mind in an instant. He’d made love to her in the small, private space of his laundry room when no place else was available. If he’d had a second chance with her, he would’ve made up for it with a bed covered in satin sheets and rose petals. That’s what she had deserved.
Again, like the laundry room, the janitorial supply room wasn’t the best or most romantic choice, but he would take what he could get. He had no intention of trying to seduce her here, but if this was the only way he had of getting her alone to talk, so be it. He was tired of this game.
He tightened his arms around her waist and tugged her close to him so she couldn’t get away. The closet was filled with any number of dangerous things she’d likely hurt herself with if she took a step back from him. She needed to stay right where she was. They were going to talk about what was going on whether she liked it or not.
So far, he was pleased enough with the situation. She was very still and quiet in his arms, albeit a touch stiff. He could hear the soft sound of her breathing, the rise and fall of her chest as she pressed futilely against him with her palms. He liked the feel of her in his arms more than he expected to. It felt natural and familiar somehow.
As his eyes adjusted to the dim light coming under the door, he was able to make out her silhouette and the soft contours of her face. What he could see of her was fighting this tooth and nail. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lips tightly pressed together. Emma’s shoulders were drawn up around her ears. She was strung tight as a drum, the comfortable woman from minutes ago completely forgotten.
“Relax, Emma. I’m not going to bite.”
“I need to get back to work,” she said, but there was half-heartedness in her voice that betrayed her. There was a part of her that was open to him. He didn’t know why she was fighting it so hard. It could be quite an enjoyable experience for them both.
“I want to talk to you first. You’ve continued to avoid me and have left me with no choice but to abduct you and make you listen to what I have to say.”
“I’m not talking to you in a closet with the lights off. It’s inappropriate.” Emma struggled against him in earnest, gaining little traction and succeeding in doing nothing but rubbing her belly back and forth against his rapidly hardening desire.
Jonah had to swallow a groan as her movements sent a wave of pleasure radiating from his groin. “Stop. Wiggling,” he managed through gritted teeth. “I just want to talk. I have no intention of taking advantage of you in here, but if you keep grinding your hips against mine like that, we may have to make some impromptu changes to the agenda.” The thought had undeniably crossed his mind, but even he had boundaries in the workplace. “I can tell you don’t think that highly of me and my reputation with women, but I can assure you that I much prefer the king-size bed in my loft for that kind of thing.”
“I don’t want to talk. Or to see your king-size bed.”
“I hadn’t asked you to.”
Emma stopped struggling and looked up at him. He could see the dim light reflecting in her eyes as they searched his face for something. Sincerity, maybe. She must’ve found it because eventually her body relaxed in his arms.
“Then what is it you want, Jonah?”
He couldn’t very well tell her that he wanted to distract her until he could clean up his brother’s mess. And in that moment, that wasn’t his biggest motivation. There was something about the way she said his name that sent a fire raging through his veins and made him want to pull her close and kiss her. It was different from the run-of-the-mill lust most attractive women lured from him. It was more powerful. Potent. And it demanded he take action.
“I just want to get to know you. There’s something happening here... I can’t explain it, but I want to see where it goes.” Jonah released her waist with one hand to reach up and caress her face. He just had to touch her, even if it earned him a slap.
Instead, he heard Emma’s sharp intake of breath and decided he wasn’t the only one whose plans were crumbling under the strain of their attraction to one another. “Tell me I’m crazy, but I know you feel it, too. You’re just determined to fight it. Stop fighting.”
“I...” Emma began to protest, but words seemed to escape her in that moment.
They escaped him, too. And words wouldn’t fill the need building inside him. Jonah leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. He expected resistance, but he found none. There was only a slight hesitation, then surrender. Maybe it was the safety of the dark, but his uptight auditor melted into him instead, matching the enthusiasm of his touch.
He’d been correct in his assessment of her. Under that straitlaced veneer was a sensual female looking for an outlet. Jonah would gladly provide it.
Deepening the kiss, he let his tongue slide across hers, drinking in the taste of spicy cinnamon. The flavor was sharp, biting him unexpectedly. He liked the surprise contrast. Emma was full of them.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging her body closer to him. The darkness and the familiar feel of her in his arms roused thoughts of his butterfly again. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear he was with her, in his laundry room. Without thinking, he let his right hand drift to her chest, stopping short of groping her breast, but aligning his hand where his butterfly’s tattoo would be.
She must have misinterpreted his intentions because Emma instantly stiffened in his arms and jerked away from his kiss. “What the hell are we doing?” she whispered.
“Wait,” he protested, the distance between them suddenly painful. Jonah let go of her to fumble for the light switch, but the instant he did, he felt her pull away and scramble for the doorknob. The door flew open, flooding the small room with light so he could see her dash away from him and down the hallway to the ladies’ room.
Flopping back against the wall, Jonah ran his hand through his hair and wished away his erection. That hadn’t exactly gone to plan.
So pulling her into a dark room and pinning her against him might’ve been the wrong tactic if he’d really just wanted to talk. And he had, at first. His body just had other plans. So had hers, but he went too far, as always. Damn.
He shook his head. Something about her just wasn’t quite right. She was nervous around him. Avoided him at all costs. Refused to accept gifts or dinner dates. He’d watched her interact with other employees, and the stiff, overly polite veil dropped. She was still professional, just not militantly so.
Emma was just insistent on keeping the wall up between them. A wall that in the dark, crumbled in an instant. She’d let him in for a brief moment, then regained her senses and ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction.
For some reason, he absolutely repelled her and had since the first moment they met. He didn’t understand at all. Yes, he was a force of nature when he wanted something, but he was also friendly, laid-back and fairly easy to get along with. Why would she fight something her body so clearly wanted?
Unless...
Jonah swallowed hard and looked out the door to watch Emma peek out, then dash down the hallway back to her office. Maybe his plan was too little, too late. Perhaps his enterprising accountant had already found the discrepancies in the books. If that was the case, it would explain a lot.
Who would want to date a man they were about to report to Game Town for keeping sketchy books?
